basket. He considered his choices, then grabbed a couple of boxes of the cocoa puffs too. The fruit crispies were good and the marshmallow kind always went over well with the boys. He remembered that Brandon liked the Apple O’s just as the scent of vanilla, citrus, and woman hit his olfactory and jolted through his body.
He usually ignored the bombardment of odors that came with a trip to the store.
But that particular scent seemed to have burned itself into his sensory memory, waking the wolf. Primal instinct, beast, whatever, that part of him that ran wild rose to shimmer under his skin. The wolf demanded release, demanded a hunt. Adam could no more deny the instinct that gripped him that any other physical necessity.
He tossed two boxes of the Apple O’s into the basket and followed the intriguing scent to its source. Because food was another necessity, the basket was not forgotten in his hunt.
There were all kinds of hunts. The hunt for food. Tracking for the adventure and curiosity. For play. Wolven did not need to kill in order to satisfy the need to hunt.
Hunting was about using their senses, to track and find what was needed at that moment.
At that moment the wolf needed to find the woman. The one who smelled soft and delicious. The female had bested him. That was unacceptable to the wolf. The man found it intriguing. Both parts of him wanted a rematch.
He stopped, cocked his head to one side, and watched her reach for a jar on the top shelf. She was short enough that she had to stand on her toes to reach. Every sense focused, his eyes riveted on the way her pants snuggled tight to her lush ass. Soft, full breasts strained against her blouse as she stretched her limit.
Adam swallowed and tried to take in a breath. The scent of her filled his nose. His body swelled and hardened. Damn, he had to get a grip. She’s just a woman. A human.
Not his kind.
She was a psychic and female. That made her fair game. That she resided in Adam’s territory made her his responsibility.
The wolf didn’t care about politics. The wolf wanted closer.
“Here, let me.” Adam reached up and grabbed a jar. He barely noticed the contents, olives.
She squeaked and bumped into him, giving him a chance to bury his nose in her hair. More soft female scent. Inside, the wolf howled in delight.
She turned, depriving him of her hair, but gracing him with the brush of her body.
He could barely contain the wolf. With his quarry found, the wolf wanted to take her, like before, to his lair.
Remembering vividly what a mistake that had been, Adam stepped back. Inside, the wolf howled with frustration at the loss of her next to his skin. With a tentative smile, Adam held out the olives.
———
“You.”
Diana stared at him, eyes wide. She took a couple of steps back, regaining her personal space. It was him. What were the chances of running into him so soon after her debacle at his house? Pretty darn high considering the size of the town. Her cheeks pinkened.
“Ah … thank you.” She took the jar he held out and gestured helplessly at the shelf. “Thank you. I’m, ah, a little short.”
The intensity in his pale blue eyes was somewhat unnerving. Dear God, Karen was right. The man was absolutely gorgeous. His near white blond hair was longish and pulled back at his neck. Several strands escaped to tease around his high cheekbones. Tall and broadly muscled, he looked like he had stepped from the cover of a Viking romance novel. That much testosterone should both be illegal and go hand in hand with medieval weaponry.
“That’s all right. I’m a little tall.” His hesitant smile broadened a bit, showing a glimpse of white, white teeth. “Makes up for not having a ladder handy.”
Oh. Something warm unfurled in Diana’s belly. She reminded herself that men this good looking did not purposefully flirt with women like her.
She squared her shoulders, gathered her wits, and set the jar in the basket before looking back at
He usually ignored the bombardment of odors that came with a trip to the store.
But that particular scent seemed to have burned itself into his sensory memory, waking the wolf. Primal instinct, beast, whatever, that part of him that ran wild rose to shimmer under his skin. The wolf demanded release, demanded a hunt. Adam could no more deny the instinct that gripped him that any other physical necessity.
He tossed two boxes of the Apple O’s into the basket and followed the intriguing scent to its source. Because food was another necessity, the basket was not forgotten in his hunt.
There were all kinds of hunts. The hunt for food. Tracking for the adventure and curiosity. For play. Wolven did not need to kill in order to satisfy the need to hunt.
Hunting was about using their senses, to track and find what was needed at that moment.
At that moment the wolf needed to find the woman. The one who smelled soft and delicious. The female had bested him. That was unacceptable to the wolf. The man found it intriguing. Both parts of him wanted a rematch.
He stopped, cocked his head to one side, and watched her reach for a jar on the top shelf. She was short enough that she had to stand on her toes to reach. Every sense focused, his eyes riveted on the way her pants snuggled tight to her lush ass. Soft, full breasts strained against her blouse as she stretched her limit.
Adam swallowed and tried to take in a breath. The scent of her filled his nose. His body swelled and hardened. Damn, he had to get a grip. She’s just a woman. A human.
Not his kind.
She was a psychic and female. That made her fair game. That she resided in Adam’s territory made her his responsibility.
The wolf didn’t care about politics. The wolf wanted closer.
“Here, let me.” Adam reached up and grabbed a jar. He barely noticed the contents, olives.
She squeaked and bumped into him, giving him a chance to bury his nose in her hair. More soft female scent. Inside, the wolf howled in delight.
She turned, depriving him of her hair, but gracing him with the brush of her body.
He could barely contain the wolf. With his quarry found, the wolf wanted to take her, like before, to his lair.
Remembering vividly what a mistake that had been, Adam stepped back. Inside, the wolf howled with frustration at the loss of her next to his skin. With a tentative smile, Adam held out the olives.
———
“You.”
Diana stared at him, eyes wide. She took a couple of steps back, regaining her personal space. It was him. What were the chances of running into him so soon after her debacle at his house? Pretty darn high considering the size of the town. Her cheeks pinkened.
“Ah … thank you.” She took the jar he held out and gestured helplessly at the shelf. “Thank you. I’m, ah, a little short.”
The intensity in his pale blue eyes was somewhat unnerving. Dear God, Karen was right. The man was absolutely gorgeous. His near white blond hair was longish and pulled back at his neck. Several strands escaped to tease around his high cheekbones. Tall and broadly muscled, he looked like he had stepped from the cover of a Viking romance novel. That much testosterone should both be illegal and go hand in hand with medieval weaponry.
“That’s all right. I’m a little tall.” His hesitant smile broadened a bit, showing a glimpse of white, white teeth. “Makes up for not having a ladder handy.”
Oh. Something warm unfurled in Diana’s belly. She reminded herself that men this good looking did not purposefully flirt with women like her.
She squared her shoulders, gathered her wits, and set the jar in the basket before looking back at
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